


student loans

by hikaie



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bad Flirting, Halloween Costumes, Meet-Cute, Other, Secret Identity, yeah thats right both of them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:00:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25634689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hikaie/pseuds/hikaie
Summary: Meet-cutes arewaybetter when you have a face to call cute. And a name, a name would be great.Or: the one where Elliott’s a broke college student picking up his usual side gig for the fall, and Bloth is the new kid on the block.
Relationships: Bloodhound/Mirage | Elliott Witt, Lifeline | Ajay Che/Octane | Octavio Silva
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	student loans

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been trying to think of a way to say this and I keep coming up with a million things so here’s the rub: I keep getting ripped off. I’ve been writing fic for about 10 years and in that time, as far as I know, this hasn’t happened to me; but in this fandom, for SOME reason, it’s happened _four_ times. And I’m genuinely getting tired of it. I’m not naming names because at the end of the day, I don’t want drama. This is the only place where I interact with the fandom at large, really, so that’s why I’m saying this here, but I _will_ say in two instances, it’s been people with a distinct following in this fandom. So, just as a general statement: stop copying me. If you are inspired by something I write- enough to copy plot points, or even use what is, in essence, the entire plot of my fic even as just a passing one in your own, _credit_ me. I deserve that much. At this point, it’s happened so often that I am seriously considering not writing for Apex anymore, which bums me out _hard_ because I’ve never been so inspired as I have been here. It has my highest fic count, and there are dozens of fics I have that you guys haven’t even seen. They say imitation is the highest form of flattery (highly debatable in this scenario, I fully don’t agree with you plagiarizing my work) but like… if you enjoy my work that much I hope you’d want to CONTINUE seeing it rather than me stop outright. Learn to credit or I’m gone, that’s all I ask.
> 
> **TL;DR:** I'm getting plagiarized, if people don't stop doing it I'm gonna stop writing fic for Apex.
> 
> Anyway, on with the usual author's note. Here's something cute and light, I started it with the intention of it being a one-shot but it just felt right to do a multi-chap. Super tropey but hey, I love to indulge. Nothing NSFW yet, tags will be updated according by chapter. Blanked on a title but the lovely [dragmire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragmire) provided what you see here. (Also, to prove I can keep up with multi-chaps I’m gonna endeavor to also update my BH/Reader today!)
> 
> As usual, enjoy.

On the fifth night of the Festival, just shy of Halloween itself, Elliott decides he is _damn tired_ of wearing chaps. He thinks if they were the real deal instead of pleather, it might be a little more bearable, but as it stands he’s sweaty and his knees hurt. It’s a small consolation that his ass looks great. If only he wasn’t stuck in this booth where no one could see it.

“El!”

Oh, _God_. He braces himself as Octavio barrels towards him, coming halfway over the table to half-hug him and clap him on the shoulder. Ajay isn’t far behind, though she comes strolling up with a cup in hand, slowly stirring the straw through it. He’s thankful for her when she kicks Oc in the calf. “Offa him, he’s workin’.”

“Uh, _ow!_ ” He reaches over and shoves her shoulder, but she doesn’t even budge. Elliott turns to hide a smile in his hand when she lifts her eyes toward her boyfriend in a glare and he immediately quails under it.

“It’s alright, ‘Jay. It’s past the kiddies bedtimes but everyone our age isn’t drunk enough yet.” He jerks his head toward the hay maze entrance to his left. “Unless…?”

“I dun-”

“YES!” Octavio slams down a twenty and doesn’t even wait for tickets, just grabs Ajay’s arm and tugs her towards the hay. She makes a face but let’s herself be corralled, and like that, he’s alone once again.

Elliott sighs and deposits the money in the cash box, then sits on top of the counter. The booth groans a bit but holds steady. He’s been working the stand for the Hay Maze for the past three years, so he’s used to the lull. During his freshman year (and, admittedly, every year following) he’d been strapped for cash and it was an easy job for a week, plus extra if he helped set it up and break it down. And after the first time, he’d been in good graces with some of the more… organized students, and he usually found odd jobs to keep him going. His only regrets are that he isn’t getting drunk with all his friends, and the _stupid_ costumes they stick him in.

He squirms on the countertop in an attempt to ease the sweating behind his knees, to no avail.

The night will pick up, it always does. He passes the slower hours swinging his feet and doling out tickets to the rare customer. Sure enough, around eight there’s a large influx of plastered twenty-somethings, which keeps him busy until closing- and there’s only one group that needs saving, surprisingly. He’s just finished ushering them out of the exit, pointing them in the direction of the east end of campus, when he turns and bumps right into a scarecrow.

Oh, no, that’s a person.

“Hey, whoa! Sorry!” On instinct he grabs their arms before they can fall, pulling back on their downward momentum, and they practically crash into him. The pumpkin mask they’re wearing knocks his hat clean off his head, and then he’s the one tripping backwards, landing square on his ass with a hiss and the sound of pleather ripping. _Fuck_.

A gloved hand appears in front of his face. When he just blinks at it stupidly, they ask “Are you alright?” Their voice has an unfamiliar lilt to it.

“Other than my pride?” _And my ass?_ “I’m doing great!” He finally accepts their help up, and when he stands the left side of his chaps sags awkwardly. Elliott hooks a finger in a belt loop and just makes sure his jeans are still holding- he really doesn’t need to get himself stuck on academic probation for public indecency. _Again_.

He takes the chance to get a better look at the scarecrow-slash-person, which happens to be a terrifying and amazing costume. _Is that pumpkin real?_ They’re sporting a Jack-o’-Lantern head with some kind of bright yellow mesh behind the openings, and carefully layered clothing, giving the appearance of a… lumpy, hay-filled sack. Maybe there _is_ hay under there? Yeah that’s definitely hay spilling out from under their collar. Damn, it’s kind of badass. And they’re _surprisingly_ solid, if their recent impact told him anything.

They clear their throat. He cracks a charming grin and cocks his hip, only half-flirting and half-still-keeping-his-pants-up. “Y’know, it’s not often I fall for people so fast.”

It’s hard to gauge their reaction with the whole, gourd-for-a-face thing, but the way that they stay completely still unnerves him just a little. He coughs out an awkward laugh. “Uh, sorry, just a little joke. I’m Elliott, nice to meet you!” He thrusts out his free hand, pleasantly surprised when they clasp it firmly and shake.

“The pleasure is all mine.” That strange voice emanates from the pumpkin, and then it’s cartoonish round eyes tilt down, toward the sad state of his pants. He gropes behind himself and clenches the tear closed, so the chaps aren’t _so_ saggy. “My apologies, I seem to have ruined your costume.”

“Oh, this old thing? You did me a favor. But uh, oh… I wonder if they’ll make me pay for it…”

“I can repair it.” They’re already holding out their hands. “Do you work the Hay Maze tomorrow?”

“Ahhh-yup. Every year… are you new?” They look like they’d be right at home taking over his booth- he wonders what they’re handling, if not the maze.

“Yes. Give me those.” Their voice has an edge of impatience that snaps him to attention, so he starts by undoing the buckle one-handed and reaching around to fiddle with the drawstrings. Once everything is adequately loose, he shimmies out of them and hands them off to this strange new Festival worker. They turn them over and run a single finger over the tear before folding the clothing with a sense of finality.

“This is an easy fix, I will drop them off at the booth tomorrow before the Festival opens.”

“C-cool! See you then!”

The smiling pumpkin bobs once in a short, decisive nod. “Perhaps.”

Elliott lets them shoulder past him before he turns to watch them go, and doesn’t even try to hide his deep frown. _Damn tunic._ That’s okay- even if they don’t have an ass, they have enough mystery to have his attention, and boy if that’s not something he’s constantly in a shortage of. He watches them until they disappear through a gap between the ring-toss tent and the caramel apple stand. He’s finally forced to move when he realizes the now considerably-cooler night air is quickly turning the damp spots behind his knees into veritable ice cubes. As he starts the long trek back to his dorm, he realizes he never got their name.

Oh well, he’ll catch them tomorrow and ask. He has a little pep in his step as he saunters through the quad. Something to actually _look forward_ to.


End file.
